


The Boy Who Smells Like Home

by manicExpressive



Series: Your Affection [4]
Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Animals, Dog - Freeform, Gen, souyoweek2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7208852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicExpressive/pseuds/manicExpressive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the same smell he woke up to in the morning, imbedded in the soft grass in the big room and the big bed that he was allowed on if he was invited. It smelled like the Girl’s bag and shoes, which he always wanted to play with but knew better. Home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Smells Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Still behind, but my attempt at Day 2 of SouYoWeek 2016: Day 2 (June 13) : Alternate Universe. If you can't tell by the tags, someone is a dog. Guess who!

He doesn’t like this box. Or he didn’t at first.

Being in a box in general isn’t something he’s ever enjoyed. He’s been in a few boxes, smaller, softer boxes when he was very young, but nothing like this. What he has now is something hard and cold, smoother than the stuff he walks on outside, surrounded three sides of the box. The front he can see through and put his nose against, but all he can see is other boxes in front of him.

It smells, though. The box smells like there have been a dozen others there before him. One of the back corners in particular smells like there was someone older, someone not so healthy. He doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t feel _good_ in the box.

And he’s supposed to feel good, right? He likes feeling good. He feels good about a lot of things.

Like riding in the box with wheels. That was _great!_ He could stick his nose out of that one, too, and feel the wind on his face and in his ears. There was also the main room where he could run around in circles with the tiniest member of the pack. The Girl. He had an important job to do, too. He had to look after her when she came inside at the end of the day and make sure she woke up in time in the morning to leave too. He wasn’t sure what she did, but it must be important, because she always took a big bag with her. And she’d always bring him back something fun to chew on.

But most of all? His favorite box was tiny. He couldn’t fit inside that box and it didn’t really have an opening, but it would vibrate and make sounds that were just so very _interesting_ that he liked to sit in front of it and listen. It could be soothing or invigorating and the Girl seemed to like it too, which made it all the better. The box with wheels could make those sounds, too. You remember those sounds.

But you don’t remember what happened to them. To the boxes or the pack.

One day they left, like they always do, but they just never came back.

Days later—many days later—strangers came in. He looked for them, he ran around and sniffed everyone, but they weren’t there. No one smelled like them.

They took him away. One large box with wheels into a smaller box of metal. He didn’t like the smell of that one, either. Someone had marked there just the other day and they weren’t happy when they did it. But he controlled himself, confused as he was. Maybe they were waiting for him…

He didn’t find them. Just the box.

This box. The new box.

He doesn’t like this box.

There’s a different girl that talks to him sometimes. He recognizes talking, even though it’s different than the rest of the pack. She’s taller than the Girl, older, but she likes to sneak in these really tasty chunks of meat, so she can’t be that bad.

He gets used to her. He likes her, actually, but he still wonders what happened to the rest. When are they coming?

Does she know?

He doesn’t know how to ask.

What if he upset them somehow? He thinks about that sometimes when it’s dark and the one in the box next to him grunts in her sleep. Did they not take him with them because he’d done something wrong? Did he forget the morning routine? He’s usually so go, never missing a day of work and never expecting a snack or head pat in return. The work itself is satisfying enough, knowing that he’s part of the team, the unit. That’s all he needs, really.

Maybe he needs to strive for more?

So he concentrates on being the best he can be.

He’s good. He’s _really_ good. He waits patiently for the Meat Girl or whoever else decides to visit him that day. He will always greet them with a smile and a hello, never too loud, but loud enough to show that he’s happy to see them. More and more faces start to come by and sometimes they even come in the box with him.

One day, there are new faces everywhere, going into every box. It’s a lot to take in. All the smells of each person, what they ate, who they saw a minute before him tell him everything. It’s a lot of conflicting smells, too, but he’s experienced and knows how to sort through them. Some smells are more important than others.

One smell sticks out in particular, though. It smells…

It smells like _home_.

It’s the same smell he woke up to in the morning, imbedded in the soft grass in the big room and the big bed that he was allowed on if he was invited. It smelled like the Girl’s bag and shoes, which he always wanted to play with but knew better.

_Home._

They must be there!

He’s jumping. He’s up, pressed against the front of the box with his feet in the holes. He’s looking, looking for the Girl or the faces of the others—

He doesn’t see them.

But he smells them?

He’s confused.

He whines.

The Meat Girl comes forward, but no snacks this time. He sits properly, ears pressed against his head. Then the smell overwhelms him. But…

It’s not coming from his pack.

It’s coming from this new person standing next to her. He’s taller, wider of frame, hair lighter and shorter. He smells about her age. The Boy Who Smells Like Home.

He’s talking to her, words that aren’t understood.

A nose presses up against the front of the box again. Yes, that’s definitely what he smells. The Boy leans down, pressing his hand up to the side. It’s sniffed properly, before a lick is followed. He makes a sound that usually means they’re happy. It’s a good sound.

He spends the most time with the Boy. The Boy and the Meat Girl take him out of the box into the yard where he can touch and smell the grass. He usually likes to run around, but this boy and his scent are strange and familiar. He doesn’t want to run, he just wants to watch the Boy as if it will somehow all make sense.

It doesn’t.

But what he does know is that when he can’t smell that scent anymore, his box feels a whole lot smaller.

Time goes by. New faces come and go. His neighbors start to disappear, one by one, with repeat faces.

Not him.

He’s good, though. He keeps being good. Meat Girl still talks to him and brings a new friend, though she smells more like Meat Girl than anything else. She’s nice. Her hands still have whatever her lunch was on them so he likes to lick them.

It gets quiet. Too quiet. He misses the small box that made nice sounds.

He misses a lot of things.

Then, one day, he smells it. He smells it again.

He’s resting on the bottom of the box, not far away from his water when it hits him. His head shoots up immediately as he looks in the direction of the door to the big room. He hears a click, ears lifting as the door swings open on its hinges.

Then he’s up! He’s up, up against the front of the box, tail wiggling in anticipation. His heart races and he taps his feet against the thin bands of metal that keep the front of the box closed. He smells it.

And he sees him.

It’s the Boy. The Boy!

He’s smiling. He knows that smile. It’s a look on people that means they’re happy. So he smiles back and says, _yes, hello! Yes, it’s me! You remembered me! I remembered you!_

The Boy says something that he doesn’t understand, but his voice is nice. It makes him feel like the small box did. But there is one word that sticks out.

_Home._

The door to his box opens for the last time.

Yes. Yes, that’s where he wants to go. He wants to go home.

* * *

 

He knew that the dog was friendly, but even Yu is surprised by the enthusiasm bestowed upon him when he’s all but tackled to the ground. With a tail wagging wildly, folded ears perked as high as they could go and lips pulled back in a classic doggy smile, how can he have second thoughts about this?

Because he had, oh yes he definitely did. Yu has always been a cat person, but the talk of getting a family pet strayed towards dogs when the notion of having something around to help keep an eye on the house was brought up. Nanako is still only six, after all, and having a dog even as an alert system adds some security to the house, small town or not.

Yes, the dog is for Nanako, he tells himself.

But is he really?

Yu laughs and pets the dog’s head and rubs his back just in time to receive a series of licks to his face.

“I told you he liked you. You should’ve seen him moping once you left!” Chie exclaims as she places her hands on her hips.

“I just never really thought of myself as a dog person,” Yu admits as he tries to get the pup to calm down enough for him to stand. He mostly manages. Mostly.

“Dog person, cat person, does it really matter? He’s kind of a weird dog, anyway. I told you he likes listening to music, right?”

Yu nods as he does make it to his feet. “Yeah, I remember.” There’s a bag on his shoulder and he shuffles around inside of it before pulling out a new collar. It’s orange and red, bright and a little atrocious and totally unlike anything in Yu’s normal aesthetic. Chie wrinkles her nose.

“Really? That’s surprising.”

“I thought it was cute.” He holds it up, revealing several Rock n’ Roll logos and guitar riffs. Kneeling back down, Yu pets the dog’s head soothingly before removing the old temporary collar the shelter had provided. He pauses at the nametag. “’Yosuke’.”

The dog barks.

Chie nods, shifting her weight. “Yeah. Not the name you’d normally give a dog, but he still responds to it.”

Yu smiles as he fastens the bright collar on his new friend.

“I like it,” he says simply as he stands. Yosuke wags his tail and stands as well, looking up at Yu for cues. “I think Nanako will too.”

Chie shakes her head before she motions for the pair to follow her back out. “If you say so! But c’mon, just got one more thing to fill out and then he’s good as yours.”

Looking down at Yosuke, Yu smiles. Big brown eyes look back up at him, curious and hopeful.

“Alright. Let’s go home.”

An excited bark follows.

It’s a good start.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, it was Yosuke, no one is surprised. I was kind of picturing him as a brown Australian Shepherd, which are cute! I mean LOOk AT THIS DOG: http://equinetapestry.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/PaleChocolate.jpg
> 
> Who wouldn't want to take this home?
> 
> Anyway, it's a little different from my usual fair, but I hope it was enjoyable enough. Pets are important members of our family too!


End file.
